Miracle Grow
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Prepare yourself for proud photos of a first-time gardener. (You realize, dear readers, that someday when I am blessed with a child, the entire internet will run screaming away from their computers for fear of yet another baby photo barrage, right? I’m just keeping it real.)

One of the things that most enthralled me about my plan to move into my parents’ house was the possibility of having a container garden. Gardening doesn’t really run in my gene pool, but there are a couple green thumbs in the lines and I had a grand plan to channel them all into the best stairway garden that ever there was.

I didn’t get that. But I did get a LOVELY tomato plant that has begun to sprout tiny green tomato babies. See?

Reality sunk in at the onset, and I knew a plan needed to be hatched. I obtained a handful of highly-rated container gardening books (thanks, Amazon reader reviews!) and one book on organic gardening which made me feel like a boorish, 1st world idiot. Soon enough, that book was on the bottom of the stack next to my bed, and I was off to Wally World for a giant, $3.99 bag of Miracle Gro. Toxins bedamned…the organic stuff was honestly really overwhelming. Maybe next summer.

Would sir like some possibly toxic, definitely delicious basil and chives?

No? Are you more of the rosemary or greek oregano type?

Actually, if you have need of fresh rosemary or chives, email me because DAMN. Those two are threatening to take over the deck entirely. Even though my friend Jen so cleverly pointed out that I’m amassing the makings of a tasty brunch, a girl can only make so many baked potatoes and loaves of focaccia.

And that is to say nothing of the strange and wonderful experiment that has been the Strawberry Topsy Turvy hack – a la Sean:

In this giant cylinder is a bevy of yummy goodness: a handful of strawberry plants, a roma tomato plant, sweet bell peppers, jalapenos, cilantro, and german thyme (another herb I have absolutely NO CLUE how to use). Great planning, that last one. Why do I get the feeling I’m going to have to dry it out and save it for Thanksgiving dinner?

I estimate that I have spent approximately $175 on the garden – including one whoopsie bag of the wrong potting soil. To tell you the truth, I get more enjoyment from those ridiculous plants that I do actual food. And eventually, I’ll get to eat them! WRAP YOUR BRAIN AROUND THAT FOR A MOMENT.

I had no idea I would enjoy flexing my long-atrophied domestic muscles with this project. I’m so happy to have tried it! Brunch, anyone?